temporary: The Cracks in My Mask
by tarnished glitter
Summary: AU. Maybe a type of "What if?" scenario. Basically, the characters are the same, have the same pasts (for the most part), but this is my take on what would have happened had there not been a war.


**A/N**: Hm. Well, this should be interesting. I usually hate AU's. _Never_ saw myself actually writing one. But that's what this is. ;/ Typical 1x2 school kid scenario in this chapter, but it won't stay that way for long. It will (hopefully shortly) progress into a fun-yet-angsty world of drugs and debauchery, as Jessi would say. ;> I'll try my absolute hardest to steer this in the opposite direction of the usual 1x2 AU fic. So please do bear with me through the early clichés, because it'll take off in a new direction as soon as I get 'em out of the classroom. The other pilots and characters will come in soon, and I'm going to try not to change too much about them. For instance, Quatre won't appear as some drug-crazed bully with spiked hair and leather clothes. There also won't be too many original characters (though there might be one or two, none of them holding major parts).

This chapter is half based on personal experiences, and mostly based on actual events. The "actual" ends when the romance begins. It's written this way, using these events, because I first wrote it a few years ago (for another fandom, which might be reflected a bit later on in the story) at a time when I was trying to "figure things out". Now, things have been "figured out", and it's staying this way only because I don't have the heart to change it.

**Warnings**: Uh.. lots? I'm not even sure exactly where I'm taking this, but here are the ones I know right now: Heavy angst (but no tragically unhappy ending), drugs, alcohol use (and very likely, abuse), possible violence, yaoi, suicide (none of the pilots), and maybe some self-injury (though it won't be one of the main themes, like in my other stories). Probably a lot more, but I'll let you know as soon as I know for myself.

* * *

I remember the first day we met. He was the new kid in school. We were always getting new kids, I didn't think that this one would be any different.

The teacher, Ms. Poe, announced his name to the class: Duo Maxwell. When I saw him walk into the room, head bowed, ratty braid trailing behind him like some goddamned leash, I knew right away that we would have nothing in common. With his geeky black glasses, braces, and scrawny figure, he was the classic dork. And me, well, I was the "trouble maker," or at least that's what I was told by my teachers and the never-ending carousel of foster parents I'd stayed with throughout my school years. I was the one who consistently got into fights and stayed after for school for detention, or otherwise at home when I committed a more severe crime that called for suspension. Looking at this poor kid, sitting hunched over in his desk at the back of the classroom, I knew that the chances of us becoming friends were about one in a million.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I saw through his mask right away. And I knew that that's what it was: a mask. He was cheerful, talkative and bubbly, sickeningly polite to the teachers, and courteous of his peers. He was well-liked right away despite his appearance; there was just something about this kid that drew you to him.

I remember everything about it so clearly, the smallest of details still engraved into my mind. I was sitting in the front of my math class, scribbling some lyrics to a song, and he was chatting with the teacher at the back of the classroom. His first day and already he had befriended the teacher.

"...I've lived here for about two weeks now, I just moved from one of the colonies, L2."

I had been listening. Who wouldn't? He was talking so loud, in that obnoxiously cheerful voice, just oozing with a sugary sweetness that made me sick to my stomach. _But there was just something about him_. I couldn't figure it out. Even today, all these years later, I still can't. I don't know what possessed me to turn around in my desk or to ask him the question. I don't know why, of all people, I was drawn to him, my polar opposite.

"You're from L2?"

He turned around. The teacher stared at me, the other kids gaped. Who would have thought Heero Yuy would so much as acknowledge a geek like him, let alone provoke conversation?

He adjusted his too-big glasses and smiled that amazing smile I've grown so fond of over the years. I must have seen that same grin about a million times throughout our long friendship, and even then I knew it was little more than a facade.

"Yes, I moved about two weeks ago."

"I used to live on L2. So, how'd you escape?"

And that's how it started. We grew close right away. After that one conversation I knew we'd become good friends, best friends. We sat together at lunch, talking and laughing (he doing most of the latter) about everything. Suzanna said that he was a good influence on me because shortly after we became friends, I stopped getting into fights and spending my Saturdays at the school for detention.

If only she'd known what had _really_ been going on. She damn well wouldn't have thought he was such a good influence.

I had always been wary of relationships, scared of getting too close to people (though I'd deny this under torture – Heero Yuy isn't afraid of _anything_). I blamed it on my dad – my _real_ dad – and on all the other "dad's" who had abandoned me in the past. I told myself over and over not to get too close to this kid, to be cautious around him, and careful of revealing too much. But all of my suspicions and fears were forgotten one afternoon in gym class.

We were supposed to be playing basketball, but being the rebel I thought myself to be at the time, I had insisted on instead walking around the gym in circles, simply dribbling the ball - and, to my delight,interrupting everyone else's game in the process. Up until that point, Duo had been pretty good at maintaining his facade, always smiling, laughing, never letting the devil-may-care grin slip for even a moment.

We were talking about our families: his mother, his sister; my own twisted version of a family, Suzanna and Kyle. Both of us conveniently leaving out those little details, the ones that would complete the big, ugly picture and expose our Happy Families for what they really were. I was convinced from his talk - or lack thereof - that he, too, had been living in foster care. I knew because I had been there myself and knew the signs all too well. After about 15 minutes of mindless dribble - both from us and the basketball - I finally gathered up the courage to ask all the personal questions I suspected I already had the answers to. And even somehow managed to tell him some of my own demons. And that's when it happened – he let himself go. For the first time in all the months that I'd known him, he got upset and angry – even started crying. Part of me wanted to put an arm around his shoulder to comfort him, to wipe away those tears, but an even bigger part wanted to smile at the fact that they were even there to begin with. It was the first time I had ever seen him without that infuriating, charming smile, and the first time he had seen me without the hardened lines on my face, the expressionless mask I'd taken such care to perfect over the years.

Crying and huddled into himself on the dirty floor of the gym, I thought he had never looked so beautiful.

From then on, we were closer than anyone would have ever thought possible. Everyone knew we had a special friendship. Some people assumed we had a little _more_ than just a special friendship. I remember one day in art (a class I despised and he loved), Jordan had come up to us and asked if we were going out. Just like that. Things were pretty out in the open in our school. If someone was gay, everyone knew about it. Except me, which I was about to find out.

I glared and told Jordan that, of course, Duo and I were not going out. But this answer didn't seem to satisfy him.

"Are you gay?"

Another grunt from me. "No, I'm straight."

Duo was silent, and we both turned to look at him.

"I'm bi."

* * *

A/N: That ending.. feels wrong. But I don't have the time to try and figure out how to make it better (or add on to it, which I planned on doing), so please forgive. To those waiting for the next chapter of "The Beginning to an End", I'm very sorry that I uploaded this instead. TBtaE will be updated soon - there's no way I'd let it go unfinished - but right now, I'm just finding that story really hard to write. Sorry. :( Soon, though. Promise.


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